Blood and Oil
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: "No blood for imulsion." On the surface, it sounded like a meaningful slogan. Yet in the end, it meant nothing. Humanity had always been willing to wage war over resources. Why would imulsion be any different?


**Blood and Oil**

"No blood for imulsion. Nice."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I didn't say there was anything."

"Yeah, but your tone of voice-"

"Look," said Paige, turning over from her desk to her roommate. "I like the slogan. I like the imagery. I like the idea of using social means to bring the Pendulum Wars to an end. I just don't think it's going to do any good."

"Why?"

Paige didn't answer, and Brandon couldn't blame her. He knew the answer. He knew that she knew that he knew. And that as a consequence of this, she didn't have to answer his question, and could instead return to her studies.

"Fine, forget it," he said, getting off his bed and walking around the dorm the pair of them, along with two other students shared. LaCroix University was quite big on dorm sharing, a side-effect of the COG's emphasis on an "orderly, secure, and productive society." Have people grow up together, and they'd work well together. And more importantly, fight well together.

_Yeah, well, the COG can shove it._

Brandon walked across the dorm and looked out the window, overlooking the university's courtyard. A drizzle was coming down, reflecting his spirits. Careers Day had come and gone, and while he was awhile from having to commit to a career, he'd been at the university long enough to understand how the world (or at least COG society) worked. You worked for the government. Ideally you'd choose a path that was related to the war effort against the "scourge of the Union of Independent Republics." And before choosing a career you'd better do a term of service in the war the COG was engaged in. And as someone studying social sciences with a major in literature, that didn't leave many ideal career paths.

"I met a colonel today," Brandon murmured, not drawing his gaze away. "COG Army. They've got a whole section dedicated to recruitment."

"Oh really?" Paige murmured. "How'd that go?"

"Oh, the usual," Brandon sighed. "Scientists are scum, students are scum, I'm a traitor for not wanting to join up and not take part in a war that's been going on for nearly eight decades. Apparently I'm accusing his Gears of being baby-killers when I pointed out that the expected career paths the COG has on military careers may have contributed to how long the war's gone on for." He turned away from the window. "Hence the posters."

Paige grunted.

"Come on Paige, you can see it," Brandon said, walking over. "You're a history student, you should know better than anyone that the only thing the Pendulum Wars have accomplished are death, destruction, and more death."

She grunted again.

"I mean, it's a social thing," he continued. "We're expected to fight, so we fight. Any attempt to steer clear of that-"

"Oh for God's sake," Paige snapped, thumping down her book on the desk and meeting her dorm mate's gaze. "You're preaching to the choir, alright? The Pendulum Wars are terrible. I know that if I have any chance of a proper career I'll have to get a term of service on my resume. I know that the situation's the same in the UIR, and that society itself has been warped as a result." She sighed. "Just deal with it."

"Deal with it? Paige, we can't just 'deal with it.' We-"

"No blood for oil."

Brandon raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"No blood for oil," Paige repeated, gesturing towards the poster he'd created for tomorrow's rally. A rally that he knew police would break up at the earliest opportunity per the crimes of "civil disobedience, subversion, etcetera, etcetera." "It's a phrase that goes back over a century."

"I…didn't know that," he murmured.

"Liar," she said, calling his bluff. "Point is, I get it. People are dying for imulsion. People died for oil until we found the liquid gold as it's called. Go further back and you have wars fought over silk, sugar, rubber, basically any kind of resource, people will kill for it." She folded her arms. "You're the social sciences guy, why don't you explain it? People will kill for anything if the value's high enough. Especially if they're told often enough that it's worth killing for.

Brandon glanced out the window. The drizzle had become a downpour.

"Come on Bran," she said. "You're only shooting yourself in the foot. Anyone who sees your record is going to single you out as a troublemaker. You know how the COG works. Any protestations against the Pendulum Wars are labelled as treason, subversion, whatever."

"So what's the alternative?" Brandon asked. "Let us just carry on as is?"

"Yes," Paige said. "Because it's what mankind's always done. Always fighting over resources, creed, race, religion…Sera's history is defined by conflict. Always has been. Always will be."

"I can't believe that," he murmured. "I can't believe that humanity can't change."

"Fine," Paige said. "I get it. You're into social sciences. Maybe you can make a change."

He glanced back at her.

"But I'm studying history," she continued, "the past. And nothing I've read, listened to, or written, has given me any indication that the rest of human history will be any different. The Pendulum Wars will end, I don't doubt that. But it won't be because of anything internal."

"But-"

"Anyway," she said, returning to her book. A book Brandon saw was labelled _The Life and Times of Alexiy Desipich _– a standard tome for the standard truth the COG preached. "I've got to get back to work." She sighed. "Glory of the COG and all that."

And that, as they said, was that.

Silently, Brandon returned to the bed. The words "No Blood for Imulsion," lay on the ground beside him. One of dozens of posters he'd printed. All part of an effort to make a change.

He lay there. Letting the words mock him.

And letting reality do the same.


End file.
